


All Right

by MangoMut



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lyrium Addiction, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MangoMut/pseuds/MangoMut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I felt like the scene where Cullen smashes the lyrium set could have gone better (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKezN7NnjqQ) mainly because I needed to hug him. This eventually became the product of two separate ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause… I will _not_ give less to the Inquisition than I did the Chantry. I should be taking it!”  
She's as calm as ever, she turns him to her and puts her arms around his neck, “this doesn’t have to be about the Inquisition, what do _you_ want?”  
“Peace,” his eyes squeeze shut as his arms surround her and hold her close. She smells familiar, it’s distant, like its just out of reach but its good so he doesn’t object. “these memories have always haunted me, if they become worse, if I cannot endure this…”  
“You can.”  
They stay like that for a long time, neither moving, just breathing in each other. It helps him a little, knowing she's there, that she wants to be there, puts his mind at ease.  
He regains his composure. As his arms loosen, she takes her cue and steps back, neither breaking contact as her hands slide down his arms and his hands rest on her hips.

She comes close again and as their lips touch he recognises it, the smell, the taste. It’s lyrium. He pushes her away and holds her steady at arms length.  
“Cullen? What is it?” Maker, now he’s hurt her.  
“It’s… you smell…” he trails off as he goes into panic. Between the withdrawal and her smelling _and_ tasting like lyrium…  
“I know I just got back, I could take a bath if you like.” She deflects it with humour but he can see the weakness in her smile, the sadness in her eyes.  
He takes a breath, “you smell and taste like lyrium.”  
He can’t stand to look at her, so they just stand there, her looking at him looking at the ground.

“I’ll stop using it when I'm out there, in a few days the taste should be gone, in a month, the smell too.” Her voice unnervingly level.  
“But what if you need to?”  
“Then when I get back I’ll warn you and keep my distance until you say so, besides, we’ve dealt with most of the Venatori for the moment, unless I go Dragon hunting I shouldn’t need it.”  
“But-“  
“My mana regenerates fast, don’t worry. If it helps you; it’s alright.”  
“I still cannot in good conscience ask you to-“  
“You’re not asking. Don’t you see? There are few ways I can help you and any way that I can doesn’t help much. Let me do this.”  
He takes her hands in his and holds them tightly, they stare at eachother, promising they can do this.

“All right.”

 


	2. Find A Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone requested that I should explore the idea of them going through it together, I don't have a grace with words to do it justice, if someone wants to run with the idea go ahead!

His pain is always worse than hers, there are some days where she holds him and soothes him and others where it’s the other way around. Days he wants to touch but she warns him off. Days she wants to touch but he cant stand it. Days where they don’t even see each other, longing looks where its just those two. Days where their bags are the same colour. Mornings she wakes up alone. Days where she doesn’t eat. Days where he brings her food because he's been there. Days where she brings him food. Days where the eat together and days where they don’t eat at all. Days where their hands shake. But every day that they can, they look at each other and some days that’s all they need to keep going.

There are nights where he thrashes so much he wakes her. Nights where she whimpers in her sleep but doesn’t wake him. Nights in her bed when its not raining and snowing. Nights in his bed where the cool of the night helps fight the temperature. Nights they spend in the kitchen because they know it will be a rough night otherwise. Nights where they look at the stars and make up stories.  
And then there are the peaceful nights, the ones where they fall asleep in each other’s arms whispering sweet nothings until one falls asleep, the other silently watching them at rest. A hand on a cheek. A kiss to a forehead.  
  
Those are the days and nights they do this for.


End file.
